Just a Headache?
by AndroB
Summary: It all started with a simple headache. Will Chase or the rest of the team figure out what's wrong with Chase before it's too late?
1. Just a Headache?

**A/N**: _This is my very first House fic, so if anyone would like to help beta it, feel free to PM me_.

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own any of the House characters. I do however own the clinic patient Bianca Skye and Nurse Nicole._

I slowly made my way to exam room three. I had a blue file in one hand and was trying to massage my head with the other. My head felt like it had it been run through a blender and dealing with another insane patient was the last thing I wanted to do.

I entered the room and quickly glanced down at the test results. _Negative for strep_. "Miss Skye," I began as I looked up at the teen.

Her chocolate orbs were glued to my face. She appeared to be trying to figure out whether my news was good or bad. Hope seemed to twinkle in her eyes. " I have Strep, don't I?" she asked eagerly.

_'Too eager,'_ I thought.

I quickly shook my head, stomping out her hope before it spread like wildfire. "The test was negative. You just have a virus," I explained.

Bianca crossed her arms before glaring at me evilly. Displeasure was clearly written all over her face. "But my throat—it hurts so bad! Can't you **do** anything? I just want this pain to go away!" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I can't give you anything for a virus."

"Oh, come on! What kind of doctor are you, anyway? What kind of clinic is this?" She exclaimed annoyed.

"Fine," I replied.

I pulled out a pen and my prescription pad. I quickly wrote out a script for some Duratuss, cold medicine. "Here's some antibiotics," I told her. "Take two twice a day until your throat feels better and come back if it doesn't within two weeks."

Bianca grabbed the paper and a grin crept up on her face. "Thank you so much doctor. I _knew_ there was _something_ that you could do for my sore throat!"

As she left, I couldn't help but let out a groan. Usually, I find clinic duty a nice change of pace from being in Diagnostics with House or working in the ICU. Occasionally, I even find a case worthy of House's attention. Not today. Today was International Stupid Patient Day.

I strode over to the nurse's station and plopped Blanca's file down. Today my favorite nurse was working the desk—Nicole. She had just started working at PPTH about a month ago and was an RN in the ICU. We crossed paths quite often. Her friendly face almost made my hard day in clinic seem worth it. "Dr. Chase checks out at…. 12:35. Write that down," I told her.

Nicole glanced up from her paperwork at the sound of my voice. "All right. Leaving a little early today aren't you? Your shift isn't over until…1:00. Either you've got a hot lunch date or House is rubbing off on you. Which is it?" she asked with a bright smile.

"Neither. I've got a headache."

"Mmm-hmm. Sure you do," Nicole teased. "Don't worry. If Cuddy says anything, I'll tell her that House paged you."

"Thank you so much. I don't know what'd I'd do if Brenda was working in here today."

"Neither do I. Feel better, Robert."

I left the clinic grateful that Nicole and I were on such good terms with each other.

Cameron and Foreman were hanging out in the conference room much to my dismay. There went Plan A: Sleep Headache Off in the Dark Room.

"Where's House?" I asked as I massaged my temples in an effort to relieve the pain.

Foreman shrugged. "He's either trying to evade clinic duty or Cuddy. Take your pick. Did you find us a case?"

"No," I replied glumly as I laid my head down on the table.

"Are you okay?" Cameron questioned.

I slowly lifted my head up. "I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"How long have you had it?" Foreman asked.

"Not long."

"How bad?"

"Not too bad."

"What's your pain rating?" Foreman interrogated as he moved closer towards me and went into full neurologist mode.

"I told you I'm fine. Stop trying to examine me!" I snapped.

I quickly stood up from my spot at the table. I picked up my messenger bag from the corner and draped it over my shoulder. I wasn't going to spend anymore time then necessary with my two nosy co-workers. "Where are you going?" Cameron inquired.

"Home. Page me if we get a case."


	2. Pills and Dreams

I arrived at my apartment ten minutes later ready to crash. After placing my bag in the closet, I went into the kitchen, and opened up my medicine cabinet.

Three rows of pill bottles stood before me. Each one begged to be taken down from the shelf. My eyes trailed down to row 3—prescription row. Only three bottles sat there. A bottle of Vicodin—left from when my wisdom teeth were pulled—that I'd forgotten to toss out and had no plans of giving to House. The other two I'd gotten filled about three months ago and both were completely full.

Not long after I found about my father's death my stepmother, Abigail, had insisted that I visit a Psychiatrist. I decided to take her advice several weeks later and visited Dr. Zawinsky at Princeton General. He wrote me a prescription for Prozac and one for Fiorinal. The Prozac because he felt I was depressed and Fiorinal because I'd been dealing with several tension headaches every week. He made me an appointment to visit him in two weeks to see how I was doing on the meds. I cancelled it three days later. I'd only visited him in the first place to make my stepmum happy. She called me twice a week after the death to check on me. After the cancelled appointment, I simply stopped taking her calls. Why did she think she could be a mother to me?

On a whim several months later, I went and had my prescriptions filled. I figured it couldn't hurt to have them filled. I never planned on taking the Prozac mainly because that would require visiting the doctor again and worrying about feeling even more depressed. In fact, I never planned on taking either pill. Until now. Now I had one hell of a headache. It was the worst one I could ever remember having. And I'd had it for almost 12 hours. I needed something much stronger than simple Ibuprofen to wipe out this bugger.

I picked up the bottle on the left and took out one of the blue and white pills. I quickly placed it on my tongue and then took a drink of water and swallowed it.

I fell asleep on my bed several minutes later.

"Robert? Please help me! Please!" A voice cried out.

I jolted upright in my bed. I began to wildly look around for the source of the voice but I found nothing. My heart began to race inside my chest.

'Calm down!' I told myself as I began to take several deep and slow breaths.

'There's no one there!'

I was about to fall asleep again when the voice returned. "Robert? Where'd you go? Come back!"

I tumbled out of my bed in pure shock. Who was in my apartment? Why did they need help?

Fear coursed through my veins. It made its home inside my body. Panic reached up and took a hold of me. As I opened the door to my room, I found it increasingly harder to breathe. I leaned against the doorway struggling to inhale Oxygen.

That's when I saw it. A figure standing in the middle of the hallway. Holding an object in one hand. My heart immediately jumped up to my esophagus. I was going to die.

"Robert, you came back," the figure exclaimed walking towards me.

"Stay away from me!" I ordered slightly out of breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you. You just need to take a couple of deep breaths, Robbie," the figure replied.

I did as instructed, taking three deep calming breaths, hoping against hope that the mysterious figure wouldn't lash out against me.

I immediately felt the pressure in my lungs disappear. Breathing was no longer a challenge. "That's a good boy. Don't you feel better?"It asked stroking a long, slender finger down my cheek.

The hallway had no end sight as far as I could see. I couldn't even see any rooms that I could use to get away from this mysterious figure. The hallway was just a long, never-ending stretch of space. I turned around, ready to lock the figure out of my room. "Where'd it go?" I questioned.

"What?"

"My room. It was just here!" I exclaimed pushing the wall where the doorway had been.

What was going on? "You can't leave until you help me," the figure replied with a laugh. "I'm not letting you leave me again."

"Leave you? What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"

Was this figure actually some crazy patient that I'd treated some time ago? Were they back for revenge? My brain kicked into overdrive trying to figure out what I could've done.

A bitter laugh bounced off the walls. "Robbie, Robbie, Robbie. Don't act so innocent. You know exactly what I mean."

I quickly shook my head in confusion. What did The Figure mean? How could I leave someone I didn't know? What kind of help did It need? "Would you like a drink?" The Figure asked suddenly holding up a wine glass.

"No," I replied quickly.

No way was I having a drink with a half-crazy person. "Come on, you know you want to."

The Figure gestured towards a table set for three and invited me to have a seat.

"No…I don't."

"What are you afraid of, son?"

The Figure's face became more detailed. The darkness morphed into light. Features became more pronounced. A young woman. Long blonde hair. Bright blue eyes. My dead mother.

She began to laugh. It was a hollow, vicious laugh. Her face began to rot before my very eyes. White, pale skin disintegrated into ashes leaving nothing but bones. Soon, her face was gone and nothing remained but skull.

"Help me. I'm dying," she pleaded.

In the distance I heard the beeping of a heart monitor. She flat lined. She was gone. Gone forever. Never to return.

Beep! Beep Beep! Beep! Beep Beep! Beep!


	3. The Morning After

Beep! Beep! Beep Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep Beep!

I woke up drenched in sweat, startled out of my dream by my pager going off wildly. I grabbed it off the top of the clock and checked the screen. It was from House. A typical Housian message glared back at me menacingly.

'**TIME FOR WORK**'

"What time _is_ it?" I asked myself as I wearily glanced at the clock.

9: 25. 19 hours. I'd been asleep for 19 hours. I think that's the longest amount of time I've ever slept.

'_I must have been really exhausted'_ I thought as I got out of bed.

At least my head felt better. I still had a headache but it felt much better this morning. As I showered up, my mind kept drifting to my dream. Why had I dreamt of my Mum? I hadn't had any nightmares about her in ages.

I arrived at PPTH at exactly 10 AM. Exactly two hours later than usual. In the conference room, House was writing on the white board.

_Headache_

_Fever_

_Seizure_

House made a point to underline the words 'Seizure'. "He's alive!" House exclaimed when he noticed my presence.

I let out a half-smile as I took a seat. "How're you feeling?" Cameron asked.

"Is the headache gone?" Foreman wondered.

"I'm fine. New case?" I questioned irritably.

"12 year old girl. Presented with headache and fever two days ago. Brought into ER for the seizure," Foreman explained sliding the purple file over to me.

I opened the folder of our newest patient, Emily, and read over the medical information. Fever of 102, moderate headache, and a seizure. "Did the ER rule out epilepsy?" I asked.

"Epilepsy? Have you even looked at her symptoms in that file?" Cameron demanded.

" Relax. I'm sure Chase has a valid reason for completely forgetting about the headache and fever. Right?" House asked.

" Maybe the seizure is not connected to the headache and fever. She has an infection along with epilepsy," I explained.

"It could've been a non-epileptic seizure. We need more information," Foreman argued.

"Well, what do you think it could be?"

"Encephalitis. Would cause the headache, fever and the seizure."

"How about Meningitis?" Cameron supplied.

House began to scribble onto the board possible diagnoses.

**Epilepsy**

**Encephalitis**

**Meningitis**

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Could be Malaria," I replied.

House added that to his list of possible diagnosis. " Get an LP, MRI, and family history." House ordered.

" I'll get a history," I said as I slowly stood up.

A wave of dizziness engulfed my senses causing the room to revolve around. I quickly grabbed the table next to me, in order to steady myself. I felt an arm quickly grab my shoulder. "You okay?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes a moment before nodding. It had passed. As quickly as it had come, it had gone. "I'm fine. I just tripped over the chair," I told Cameron with a laugh.

I left the conference hoping that Cameron would believe my little white lie. The last thing I needed was her worried that something was wrong with me. I was fine. Why didn't everyone else believe it?

I found 12-year old Emily in her room talking to her mum. A smile came across her face as she laughed. 'They must be close' I thought.

I knocked on the door and entered the room. "Hi, I'm Doctor Chase." I said. " I'm one of your daughter's doctors."

"Do you know what's wrong?" the mother asked standing to her feet.

"Not yet. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" I asked.

"Not at all," she replied.

"You first had a headache on Tuesday, correct?" I began.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed. " The day after my class went on hiking trip in the woods."

" Which she didn't go on!" Mrs. Hart immediately exclaimed.

" Okay," I replied.

I quickly made a note about the class field trip. "And none of your classmates are sick?"

"Not that I know of. I haven't been to school since Monday," Emily replied.

"History of seizures?"

"She's never had one before," Mrs. Hart supplied.

"Relatives?"

"Not that I know of," she responded.

"That's good enough for now. We'll be back later to run some tests," I told her.

I let out a sigh. This had been a complete waste of time. Neither Emily nor her mother had given me any useful information at all.

"Doctor! Doctor Chase!"

I turned around and found Nurse Nicole Mitchell making her way toward me. "Need something, Nurse?" I asked.

"How're you? Feeling better?" she countered.

"Definitely," I replied with a grin.

"I figured you would take a sick day."

"And miss seeing you? Yeah, right!" I playfully told her. "We finally got a case."

I handed Nicole the file to look at. "You gonna be too busy to have lunch with me?" she asked as she handed the folder back.

"For you? I'll make time," I replied. "Page me when you go on lunch."

"See you later, Robert."

As soon as Nicole left, a wave of dizziness hit with full force. I quickly stopped to lean against the wall and hoped it dissipate soon. A wave of nausea rose up in my throat. 'I'm going to be sick!' I thought feeling my stomach churn.

I sank down to the floor fighting the urge to throw up. I didn't want to be admitted as a patient to this hospital. "Doctor? Are you okay?" I heard a disembodied voice ask.

" I'm fine. Leave me alone," I replied.

I'd be okay. I just needed a few moments. I needed to stay seated for a little bit. I'd be okay. "I don't think so. Why don't you come with me?" the voice asked gently. "Nurse!"

Moments later the spinning faded into darkness.


	4. Waking Up

**A/N: I recently had my own House experience and spent 19 days in the hospital. I would've had this chapter up much sooner if it weren't for that. On the plus side, I now know more about what goes on in the hospitals :)**

I open my eyes very slowly. I find myself in a darkened room. 'Good!' I think immediately with relief. 'Someone just took me home.'

I'm glad that I haven't been admitted to the hospital. I don't think I could've stood everyone fussing over me. House would undoubtedly subject me to useless and humiliating tests.

A bright white light glows from a room about fifteen feet in front of me. _Strange_. I feel my stomach tighten. My heart begins to race. _'Calm down!'_

I cautiously walk towards the light hoping nothing bad will happen. I enter the room and find myself in a church. A seemingly empty church. "Hello?" I call out.

A part of me wants to run as far away as possible. I find myself grounded to my spot. "Ah, Robert, there you are," A voice says from the balcony.

I look up and see the shadow of what appears to be some guy. "You've been looking for me?"

"Indeed I have. You're late."

"Late?"

I'm late? I can't think of anything that I could've been late for. Except for my lunch date. "Are you a friend of Nicole's?" I quickly question.

"Who's that?"

"No one. What am I late for?"

"Surely you know, Robert. Our lesson."

As I take a step backwards, the lights in the room began to flicker. Clap! The door behind me slams shut. I feel a lump begin to develop in my throat.

_What is going on?_

I glance at the door for a moment and then back up at the balcony. I have to get out. I refuse to stay here. I grab the cool, metal knob and turn it. And nothing happens. The door remains shut. I grip it harder and pull with all of my might. Still nothing. "Open!" I scream.

I pound on the door while a laugh echoes through the church. "You're not going anywhere, Robert. Not until you finish your lesson. You can't escape. I've made sure of that."

"Fine," I reply. "What this all-important lesson?"

I try my best to remain calm. Even though fear is beginning to overtake me. I don't like this situation. Not one bit. Nothing good could possibly come out of this. "Don't act so innocent, Robert. You're here to finish Seminary school."

"What? I'm—I—I quit," I tell him.

I go back to pounding on the door and hope that someone will hear me. I hope that someone will rescue me from this evil. I jiggle the doorknob with one hand and make as much noise as I can. "Why? Don't you believe anymore?"

"Sure. I'd just rather help people using medicine instead."

I silently pray he'll leave me alone. I pray I'll be able to get out of here. I feel a gush of wind whip past me. "Right," the voice replies drenched in sarcasm.

I don't even turn around. The only thing I care about is getting out of here. That's all that matters.

The room begins to spin. Faster and Faster. Everything begins to churn together. I close my eyes momentarily in order to stop the madness. I open my eyes to find myself in a completely different room. Instead of in a church, I'm in a bedroom.

"What the hell?" I question in confusion.

The room looks exactly like my old room. I sit down on the bed. I then pick up the TV flipper and push the power button. Nothing happens. I push it again. Still nothing. "What's wrong with you?" I ask the remote.

_What am I doing here? What is going on?_

"Robert!" a lilted voice calls from beyond.

I quickly jumped off my bed in shock. "Not again," I moan.

_When would this madness stop? Would it ever stop?_

My head begins to pound heavily. Faster and faster. I feel like my head will explode in any given moment. A bright white light envelops my senses. It grows brighter and brighter and then everything goes dark again.

"Chase? Chase? Robert!"

I sense a hand shaking my shoulder. I open my eyes and find myself in a hospital bed looking into the eyes of some guy I've never seen before. My eyes trail down to his name badge: Kevin John, PCA.

'_Great, just great!'_ I think sardonically.

Why did they have to admit me? Why? "I need to get your vitals," he tells me as he wheels his vital machine toward me.


End file.
